Protection
by Meridianpony
Summary: Five times Steve needed Diana, and one time Diana needed Steve.
1. Chapter 1

It's horrifyingly familiar, but this time Diana isn't with him. On the bright side, he doesn't have to worry about dragging the Amazon princess behind him-but that serves as a downside, too, because she isn't there to punt aside the men that suddenly surround him on all sides, shoving guns into his chest. He tries to fight them at first, lashing out with fists and feet at his opponents, but there are four of them, and Steve is on his own. They manhandle him up against the wall, and two grab his arms in vice grips to keep him pinned there.

"Ah, Mr. Trevor," one of them says casually, and grabs Steve's hair to tug his head back against the brick wall behind him. Steve tries to fight it at first, but eventually the pain is too much to bear and he bares his teeth at the man as the tip of a knife scrapes against his exposed throat. "I was wondering if we'd _ever_ be able to corner you. You're a slippery one. We've spent quite a lot of time tracking you down."

"You know, I'd apologize for inconveniencing you ordinarily, but I don't think I will this time," Steve retorts, shifting cautiously and flexing his arms to see if he can break free. The men holding his arms only respond by tightening their grips, making Steve wince.

"We need some information, Mr. Trevor, and I believe you have what we need," the man holding the knife to his throat continues, as if Steve hadn't even spoken. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to give anything up willingly, would you? It would make our lives much easier, and your death a lot less painful."

Steve laughs in defiance even as his heart stutters and his breath hitches in fear. He knows a lot of different things that could be of potential use to the germans-battle plans and supply lines, for one, and Diana, as well.

He'll die before he gives anything up about her.

"That depends on what you want, good sir," he says placatingly, flicking his eyes downward to make sure the knife at his throat isn't moving. "Tell me what you're after, and perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement."

His gun is still in its holster. They hadn't disarmed him, choosing instead to keep his limbs pinned. He struggles against the arms holding him down again, but this time one of the brutes growls at him wordlessly and uses one hand to slap Steve across the face, _hard._ It hurts more than Steve cares to admit, and he gasps, struggling to recover from the blow.

"I believe you misunderstand me, Mr. Trevor. We aren't looking for any one piece of information-we're well aware of your profession, after all, and you surely know many secrets." The knife inches forward threateningly, and Steve finds himself pressing his whole body against the wall to try and avoid the blade. Unfortunately, there's nowhere to go, and the edge of the knife pricks his skin just hard enough to draw blood. A single drop wells up, sliding down his skin and disappearing into his clothing.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," he tries, even though he knows it's useless. They know who he is. Sure enough, at his words, his interrogator chuckles.

"Cute, Mr. Trevor. Very cute," he sneers. "You'll be coming with us, now. I would recommend against struggling. My assistants are a bit… accident-prone, you see, and I only need you _alive._ A few broken bones won't kill you."

The knife is lowered and stowed away. Steve has a split second to make a decision, and as the man steps away he kicks out with both feet and twists frantically, throwing his head forward to dig his teeth into one of his captor's hands. The man yelps, and for an instant Steve has a free arm. He lunges for his gun, gets it in his hand-and then yelps as a fist plunges into his stomach, forcing him to double over. He swears, fires the pistol blindly, and then cries out again when a massive fist collides with his cheek. The force of the punch knocks him sideways. He hits the ground, and his vision flickers.

Hands grab at his body, and he tries to get up-but his body refuses to respond, and he is helpless as he is forced to his knees. Once his hands are tied behind his back, it's all over.

"That was unwise," the german says. Steve glances up through bleary eyes to observe his captors. One of them is nursing a hand, glaring at Steve angrily, and another is hissing as he applies pressure to a wound on his shoulder-Steve's bullet had grazed him, nothing more. The last grunt is behind him, and their leader leans forward, getting right in Steve's face.

"You will regret that," the man announces, arching an eyebrow, and Steve knows it will only end in more pain but he can't help it-he spits at the man, and grins when he leaps back in disgust.

"You'll get nothing from me," he growls. The man's eyes flash.

"We shall see," the german snarls. Then he turns to his men. "Take him, and be discreet about it."

Steve's eyes widen, and he clenches his fists.

He can't let them take him. Not, at least, without a fight. If they are successful… well, Steve knows plenty of ways to silence himself before they can get any kind of information from him.

He struggles as two men approach his bound form, but he can't stop them from lifting him up like a sack of potatoes.

"Someone, _help!"_ he shouts, because maybe, _maybe_ someone will hear. Someone useful, not, like, a housewife, or a child, because that wouldn't end well. A soldier. A policeman. Or, better yet, _Diana. "Help!"_ he tries again, and the germans hiss in panicked frustration.

"Shut him up!" one of them growls. Steve writhes.

"Help! _He-mpffff!"_

A cloth is stuffed into his mouth with so much force that Steve chokes, and his struggles turn to terrified flails for a moment before he remembers to breathe through his nose. He keeps fighting, unwilling to stop because he's scared despite all his training, but he goes limp when the butt of a gun smashes into his temple.

"... _eve?"_

One of the germans turns at the faint noise that echoes down the alleyway.

"What was that?"

Everyone freezes for a moment.

" _Steve? Steve, where are you?"_

Her voice echoes, rebounding off the stone walls surrounding them, and Steve wants to cry in relief.

"Sounds like a girl," one of the men holding Steve grunts. Their leader perks up, peering at Steve with a malicious glint in his eye.

"A girl, hmm? A girlfriend, perhaps, or even a close acquaintance? Would Mr. Trevor be more inclined to speak if we brought her along?"

Steve almost chokes again, but this time it's because he's forcing down a laugh. Fortunately, the germans seem to think it's because he's concerned for Diana, and chuckle among themselves, settling back to hide in the shadows. Steve plays along, letting out muffled cries through the gag and twisting frantically to escape as he's dragged along.

The germans have no clue what's coming.

" _Steve? This had better_ not be some sort of joke," Diana says. She's close now. Steve can hear her heels clicking against the cobblestone. He's seen her _stab people_ with those heels.

"Honestly, Steve Trevor. We're going to be late at this rate, are you planning on…"

Her voice trails off as Steve's captors step into the light, revealing themselves to her. Steve is thrown to the ground-he winces as his knees are bruised, and growls in annoyance.

"I'm afraid you're both going to be late, ma'am," the german says, and despite Diana's presence Steve stiffens as the muzzle of a gun presses against the back of his skull. "Hands up, now, and no funny business. Scream, and you'll regret it."

Steve lifts his head to watch as Diana arches one regal eyebrow at his captors. She'd been shopping for supplies, and she lets the bag of groceries slip from her fingers to land on the ground. Her vision sweeps over the group, taking in the men, and Steve, who tries his best to look pitiful.

"What's this?" Diana asks casually. Steve marvels at her fearless expression, and the germans seem a bit unnerved by it, too. In fact, their leader seems completely thrown off guard.

"What-what do you mean, what's this?" he stutters out. "This-this is a kidnapping!"

Diana frowns and tilts her head.

"Ah, I see," she replies. "Unfortunately, I cannot allow you to do such a thing. You will release him at once." She takes a few steps forward. The germans exchange extremely confused glances with each other, and Steve can hardly blame them.

"Are you insane, woman?" the leader asks. "I'm not going to do that just because you told me to! Put your hands in the air, right now!"

Diana stops walking, but she doesn't put her hands up.

"Allow me to rephrase," she says. "Release him, or I will _make you_ release him."

Her voice and very presence washes over them all, and Steve shudders. She's _beautiful._ Powerful, bold, and fearless-the germans are so screwed.

"You're insane," the german leader accuses, slightly hysterically. "Can you not see my gun, girl? My loaded weapon, which at any moment I could use to kill either one of you?" He removes the gun from Steve's head and waves it at Diana.

Mistake.

Diana moves so quickly that Steve doesn't realize she'd moved until one of the germans behind him cries out in shock and pain. Diana hurtles into him like a cannonball, slamming him into the wall so hard that splinters of stone scatter everywhere. The other men shout, and gunfire splits the air. Steve dives for the ground to get out of her way, grinning around his gag as he hears the telltale sound of metal on metal-bullets deflected by Diana's armguards, no doubt.

"Witch!" he hears one of them shout. The same man goes flying a moment later, spiralling over Steve's head and landing with a crunch. Steve winces, and it's not quite in sympathy, but it's _close._

He lifts his head to watch Diana finish off the last two men. The final brute attempts to use his gun as a club, swinging at her powerfully-but his motions appear slow and clumsy compared to the grace and agility Diana employs. She's so much faster than him, diving beneath his blows and deflecting his arms with devastating kicks. When her fist collides with his chin, he drops like a stone.

The last one, the leader, backs up in terror as she advances on him.

"No, wait-please! Spare me, I didn't-"

His back hits the wall. He jumps with a startled squeak and then moans in fear when Diana slams her fist into the wall next to his head, shattering stone with ease.

"I did warn you," she reminds him, and cocks her fist. The man doesn't even have a chance to respond.

When Diana turns back to him, she gives Steve a slightly exasperated look. Steve stares up at her, pleading with his best puppy-dog eyes, and luckily they work this time, because she smiles and steps forward to untie him.

"I can't even leave you alone for five minutes," she says. He tries to shrug. It's a little hard with his hands tied behind his back, but she gets the gist of the motion and chuckles.

She doesn't even need a knife. She tears the rope away as if it's cobwebs. The moment the rope is gone Steve tears the gag away.

"Finally," he groans, rubbing at his mouth and glaring at the prone forms of his enemies. "That was starting to get uncomfortable."

Diana offers him a hand up. He accepts it, and despite the display he just witnessed he's amazed by the ease in which she lifts him to his feet.

She could probably crush him with one hand, and that shouldn't be attractive, but somehow it is. He tries not to think about it too much.

"Thanks," he tells her. "That wouldn't have ended well if you hadn't shown up."

"You're welcome, Steve," she replies. She grins, eyeing him contemplatively. "I am hardly surprised by the attack at this point. Trouble seems to flock to you in spades, Steve Trevor."

Steve blinks, bending down to retrieve their groceries.

"You're… not wrong," he admits with a heavy sigh. "But I'd just like to point out that this didn't happen to me before…" he waves his hand in her direction, "before you. I was perfectly capable of keeping a low profile until I had the princess of Themyscira at my side. Now I can't go anywhere without getting jumped." He flashes her a grin to make sure she knows he's joking, because knowing her she'd misunderstand and attempt to leave so Steve could regain his stealth, or some stupid thing like that. The Amazons, apparently, didn't believe in jokes. Or sarcasm. Or fun of _any kind,_ really.

She returns the smile.

"I suppose I'll just have to stay at your side, then. You'll need protection," she says, and _oh._ Steve's heart skips a beat before he ruthlessly squashes the rising hope in his chest, pushing it back down and locking it up tight.

She can't possibly know, can't understand what saying that means to him, what it could imply. He's probably just reading into it too much-she probably means it in the most platonic way possible, but… he _wishes._

War is not the time or place for a relationship, anyway. He refuses to get too attached until they've won.

(He's already too attached. He ignores it, and continues to pretend otherwise.)

He _wishes._

Diana takes the bag of groceries from his hand gently.

"Are you injured, Steve? Shall I call off the meeting?"

Steve shakes his head. "A little rattled, maybe, and bruised, but it's nothing that won't heal in a few days. No broken bones, at least." His wrists are sore, his jaw hurts, and his knees are scraped, but he's not worried.

She nods in satisfaction.

"Good. You've worked too hard on this plan for it to be postponed any longer."

A thrill of pride ripples through his chest. His latest idea is a stroke of brilliance, and with Diana's help he'd managed to turn it into an official operation, one that could potentially strike a deadly blow against the germans.

"Let's go," he says, and takes care to trod on one of the unconscious german's fingers as he walks past. "They're not waking up anytime soon, I'll call the police to come pick them up and then we'll go meet with the team."

She follows him, and the moment they are back into the public area Diana presses closer to him, flashing a sly grin.

"Stay close to me this time, yes? I would hate for you to get abducted again."

Steve groans as his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, but he leans toward her obediently until they are nearly touching. His fingers brush against hers, and they both jump-Diana more in confusion and himself in startled hesitance. After an awkward beat, Diana takes his hand in both of hers, and he swallows nervously as she leans in.

"I will never leave you to be alone, Steve," she promises softly. "I will not let them take you away from me."

And, woooowwww, Steve's knees feel weak. He might need to sit down for a moment.

She's amazing. She's gorgeous and unstoppable and strong and she's just destroyed him with two simple sentences.

He's so floored that he can only nod mutely in response, eyes wide, and she smiles in satisfaction.

"To the meeting, then," she announces in determination, spinning and tugging him in the proper direction. She only holds his hand for a few moments longer before she drops it, but Steve can't complain. He follows her like a duckling, and he's sure he has some sort of starstruck look in his eyes but he can't really bring himself to care.

Is there really a patch of red on her cheeks, or is he imagining it?

Either way… it's a start. It's far from perfect, with the war hanging over their heads, but at least it's _something._

Steve can work with something.


	2. Chapter 2

**For Makenzie, whom I love more than life itself. 3**

* * *

When the rounds come screaming overhead, promising death in shrill tones, Steve doesn't even hesitate to grab whoever's closest—it's Charlie, this time—and hurl them both down into the ditch on the side of the road. Despite Steve's quick movements, the close proximity of the blast still knocks out his hearing for several terrifying seconds. Even once it returns Steve spends a few disoriented moments in panic, because all he can hear is gibberish.

A moment later, he realizes that the gibberish is just Charlie swearing violently in what Steve assumes is Gaelic, so at least he hasn't sustained any brain damage.

Gunfire and more mortar rounds sound from above them. Steve grasps blindly for his gun, shaking his head to try and get rid of the incessant ringing in his ears, and struggles to his knees. Sameer, the Chief, and Diana are all still out there, and Steve prays they were able to get out of the way before the rounds hit the road.

Charlie swears again. Thankfully it's in English this time.

"Well, this wasn't supposed t'have happened at all!" the marksman shouts, rolling to his knees. "Just dumb luck, eh? Think the others r'alright?"

"They've got Diana with them," Steve says in answer, and immediately the tension that had been evident in Charlie's expression eases slightly. They trust Diana more than anyone else in the whole army. If anyone can keep the rest of their team safe, it's her.

The village they'd been travelling through on their way to their next assignment had been occupied by allies, and blindly Steve's team had assumed that would allow them safe passage. They should have known better. The germans always find a way to attack where they're least wanted.

Finally, _finally_ the allies posted in nearby buildings begin to return fire. From the safety of the ditch Steve can't quite tell where the enemy is coming from, so he sucks in a deep breath and takes a risk, poking his head out into open air. He watches for as long as he dares, getting a bead on the opening the Germans are pouring in from, before diving back down into safety.

Relaying Charlie the information and joining the defenders in returning fire is muscle memory at this point. This isn't their mission, but Steve won't sit by and let an outpost get overrun just because that isn't his job.

Charlie shoots this time. Steve knows there'll be consequences for it. Charlie sees every man that he kills in his dreams, and they chase him in his mind unceasingly and rip him to pieces every time he closes his eyes. Right now Charlie's hands are steady and his eyes are sharp, but he'll fall to pieces tonight just as he always does (assuming they even survive that long). Steve hopes his teammate will be able to hold out long enough to drive the Germans back.

"Tank!" someone suddenly screams out. This time Steve is the one to swear, diving back down to safety—and just in time, too, because the moment he does the massive explosion tears through the ranks. A house behind them explodes, sending shards of rock and brick whistling through the air. Steve gasps as the tiny shrapnel cuts into his skin, leaving streaks of blood behind. A body flies past them as well. The unfortunate man's shoulders are too broad for it to be Diana or Sameer, and the skin color is too light for it to be the Chief. Steve feels a stab of relief before he realizes what he's doing, and then he's almost sick with guilt.

"Steve. Steve!" Charlie cries, jolting Steve from his stupor, and when the spy glances up he sees that Charlie is smiling. The expression is so out of place that Steve blinks at him in flat incomprehension for a second, and then he's scrambling to peer out of the ditch and see what his friend is pointing at.

The tank, an A7V, german-crafted, is trundling forward. Steve fails to see what's so good about this until Charlie outright laughs, lowering his gun.

"Ah, they're gonna get it now. I'm glad it's not me, the poor lads," Charlie crows, and he doesn't sound sorry at all. Steve still doesn't understand, but before he can ask for clarification, a blur of red, blue, and black shoots past them.

 _Diana._

She hits the tank at top speed, and the metal plates fold like napkins. Metal screeches in protest, but Diana doesn't even slow down. She tosses the crumpled steel aside and draws her sword.

Steve doesn't blame the Germans at all for running, but of course, Diana isn't going to stand for that. She goes tearing after them, and Steve knows they've won, for now.

He climbs out of the ditch, offering a hand to Charlie, who takes it. They clamber out of their pocket of safety, but once they emerge, there's no one left to fight. Diana is hot on the heels of the retreating attackers, and the Germans are too busy sprinting away to even think about continuing their attack.

At his side, Charlie sighs and lowers his rifle.

"So much for being discreet," he mutters thickly, and Steve laughs.

The haze of otherworldly awe that always settles over soldiers whenever Diana takes to the field is fading. Now that the majority of the men have oogled over Steve's teammate for a bit reality crashes back in, and Steve jolts when he hears the shouts of alarm behind him.

One of the homes that the allied forces had been using to house their men is on fire, a victim of the single shot the tank had gotten off before Diana turned it into scrap metal. Men are still in there, and some of them are trapped—it's a four-story building, too. Sparks are beginning to fly, and men are assembling to catch anyone who dares to make the jump to safety.

Then, as Steve watches, a small head pokes out of a fourth-story window. Steve almost doesn't see him in time, but then the fez falls, landing in the dust and getting crumpled beneath heavy boots.

Steve drops his gun and runs.

" _Sameer!"_ He has to bellow to be heard above the crackling flames and shouting men. "Sameer, what are you _doing?"_

Sameer waves at him frantically. His mouth is moving, but Steve can't make out his words through all the noise. Charlie swears as he comes up next to him.

"What's the lad trying to say?" Charlie asks. "Just jump already, we'll catch you!" He lifts his hands in an attempt to mime the suggestion. Sameer sees it, but he shakes his head. He disappears back into the building, and returns a moment later, dropping a small object out the window that spirals as it makes it's way to the ground.

A feather.

"The Chief is up there, too," Steve realizes. "He's probably unconscious or something if he hasn't stuck his head out yet, and Sameer isn't strong enough to carry him."

Smoke is starting to pour out of the window Sameer is waving at them from, and Steve winces when he sees their friend double over, hands clasped to his mouth as his whole body shakes from coughs.

He makes a split-second decision without thinking about it, because if he thinks about it he'll freeze up in terror.

"I'm going in," he tells Charlie. "Stay here." He runs for the entrance, but footsteps sound behind him, and Charlie smacks his arm as they run.

"Idiot, you think I'd leave you t'do this alone? Not a chance," Charlie mutters. Someone tries to stop them as they power through the crowd, but they don't even spare him a second glance, weaving around him and racing into the burning building.

Steve is going to classify this as just about the stupidest thing he's ever done, which is saying something, but at least he's running into a burning building for a good cause.

They still have a mission to complete this week, after all, and they can't do that if half of their team goes up in smoke.

The instant they step inside the building a wave of heat and smoke crashes over them. Steve coughs almost immediately, squinting through the haze wildly in search of the staircase. Fortunately, it's concrete and not completely destroyed, but there's still a sea of flames between them, so Steve grits his teeth and runs for it.

Fire licks at his heels and skin. Burning hot embers are everywhere, and for once in his life he's grateful for the heavy-duty army boots that he's forced to wear—they protect his feet from the worst of the heat and allow him to make the dangerous trek up the first set of stairs.

The second floor is no better than the first. Charlie takes the lead this time, picking the safest path through the wreckage. About halfway across, the floor beneath Steve's friend's feet caves in. Charlie cries out, and Steve dives for him as he drops, frantically grasping for Charlie's flailing hands.

He catches him—barely. Charlie yelps in horror when he looks down to see a literal swamp of fire beneath him, and the flames are growing higher and higher. Steve groans as he pulls his teammate to safety, muscles straining, and even once Charlie's back on semi-solid ground it takes all of Steve's willpower not to just collapse right there.

The fire is still coming. They exchange a half-determined and half-terrified stare before bolting for the second staircase, ducking beneath a crumbling beam as they do.

The third floor is blaze-free, but the smoke is thick, and clings to them like some sort of dark spirit. They waste no time in making their way up to the fourth floor, and it is there that they find their missing companions.

Sameer looks so relieved that he could cry. He nearly launches himself at Steve when they clamber up the staircase, barely restraining himself in time.

"My friends, I am so happy to see you!" he cries out. "The Chief is hurt, I can't—I couldn't—"

"It's alright, Sameer," Steve reassures him quickly, kneeling next to the Chief's sprawled form. There's a large cut on his head, but other than that their friend seems fine. "We'll have to carry him, and we can't waste any time." He kneels to grab the Chief under the arms. Charlie and Sameer grab the legs, and the three of them carefully maneuver their unconscious friend down the first staircase—only to find that the third floor has caught on fire as well.

"Looking back, this was a pretty bad idea," Steve mutters to himself, "but what else would we have done?"

The building is creaking around them ominously, and none of them have a single clue how they're going to get out of this alive. Not even running for a window is an option anymore, so in desperation Steve begins to turn.

"Back to the fourth floor!" he yells, tugging the Chief's body with him—

And completely fails to notice the beam that suddenly falls, hitting him right in the back of his head. Steve drops his half of the Chief as his vision swims, and he staggers unsteadily. Sameer and Charlie shout to him in panic as he sways dangerously close to the edge of their safe platform.

Steve coughs, and spits blood from his mouth—he'd bitten his lip on the impact.

" _Steve? Steve!"_ Charlie is shouting, but his voice sounds distant and tinny, and ow, Steve's pretty sure he has a concussion now because his limbs are _not_ obeying his commands. He tries to rise back to his full height, but the world tips and lists lawlessly, and he almost falls again.

This is bad. This is really bad. The heat and the smoke combined is stifling, and they're all fighting for every breath they take, sucking in thick smoke along with the little oxygen that's survived this long.

A hand hits his back, and suddenly Sameer is in front of him, waving a hand frantically in his face. Steve's eyes try to track the movement, but they're slow and jerky, and Sameer's face falls. Steve grabs at his hand.

"Leave me," he hisses out. "Leave me, take Chief, and _go."_

Sameer shakes his head, the stubborn idiot, so Steve squeezes his arm to try and make him understand.

"I _can't. Move,"_ he grits out, but again Sameer shakes his head.

"We aren't… anywhere… so that… the Chief and...you," he says, but Steve only catches half of what he says because the floor beneath them begins to crumple right as he speaks.

They're doomed if they stay. Steve pushes at Sameer weakly.

" _Go,"_ he growls. "Go, get _out of here!"_

Sameer leans closer, right next to Steve's ear. "Not a chance," his teammate says fiercely, and Steve's heart sinks. His friends are far too loyal, far too brave, and they'd never abandon one of their own. It's going to get them killed.

They huddle on the concrete staircase in silence for a few agonizing moments, and Steve is starting to feel his consciousness slipping away. The room falls in flames around them, and dimly Steve realizes that this is a much dumber way to go out than he thought he would.

The world is beginning to flicker. Sameer presses closer into his side comfortingly, almost cuddling into him, and half-deliriously Steve appreciates the contact, leaning his head back and watching as the sparks spiral past, stinging his skin.

He watches through slitted eyes as the ceiling is completely torn away. The sight should fill him with awe, or fear, but he blinks up at it mutely for a few long moments, unable to comprehend it in his concussed state.

She descends like an angel, throwing aside burning debris like it's nothing. Sparks flutter past her, and Steve's breath, constricted as it is, hitches.

Diana is ethereal, a goddess from another world, and with the fire swirling around her and sparks drifting past, she's more glorious than anything else he could even imagine.

She lands beside them, and tries to speak to him, but Steve doesn't comprehend it—he's having a hard time comprehending _anything_ at the moment. Charlie has to answer her, screaming over the burning building, and Diana looks back at him in concern before he face shifts into something determined. She pulls Steve up and slings him onto her back, like he's a little kid (a fact that Steve would ordinarily be mortified by but at this point he's too out of it to care and clings to her desperately). She stoops and pulls the Chief into her arms next, hefting him as if he weighs little more than the feathers he likes to wear in memory of his homeland.

She barks something to Charlie and Sameer, who grab ahold of her body as tightly as they can—it's near impossible for them to actually hurt her like that, they'd found out earlier—and then Diana _jumps._

They fly into the air, and despite his incoherency the motion still makes Steve's stomach roll, because suddenly they're soaring high enough to be hit by low-flying planes and even though Diana is beneath him, that's _terrifying._ Sameer and Charlie are screaming as Diana reaches the peak of her jump, and far, far below them, the burning building crumples to the ground.

Then, they're descending, and Diana is _picking up speed._

She's carrying four people, and can't control her descent as well with the extra weight—but even then she somehow manages to cushion them as they hit the earth, flinging Sameer and Charlie sideways to get rid of the dangerous momentum and curling her own body around both Steve and the Chief.

They hit the ground, and it creates an actual _shockwave._ Steve's already dimming vision flickers, and he must lose consciousness for a few minutes because when he wakes up Diana is standing over him, eyes wide in concern.

"Steve, are you alright?" she asks, and Steve coughs painfully, wincing at the painful jolt that runs through his body. His lungs ache, his head hurts, and his limbs _still_ aren't obeying him right, but at least he can sit up this time.

"I… I will be," he says hoarsely, and then flinches in terror, because _what happened to the rest of his team?_

"Diana," he groans out, "where are Charlie and the others?"

Diana grins, and points. Steve follows her gesture and snorts when he sees that all three of their teammates are in one piece. The Chief is awake, finally, but Charlie and Sameer are basically crushing him and are showing absolutely zero signs of moving. The Chief doesn't seem bothered by this—there's a long-suffering expression on his face that speaks of endless patience and tolerance. Steve exhales hard in relief, and coughs again. Diana shifts closer, peering at him in concern.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks, placing both hands on his shoulders. "We will rest for a few days before we continue to allow you four to recover regardless, but—"

"It's just a concussion," Steve tells her, and his body leans toward her almost on it's own. She smells like metal and smoke, and it shouldn't work for her but it _does,_ and it's a little weird but Steve can't bring himself to care.

He tries to stand, and that's a mistake, because he falls—Diana is there to catch him, and picks him up bridal style.

"Diana," he moans, because now that they aren't in a life-or-death situation for her to pick him up like that is embarrassing… also, Charlie wolf-whistles somewhere in the background, but Diana ignores his squirming.

"You need rest," she says, and there's a hint of amusement in her tone. She's _enjoying_ his suffering. He says as much accusingly, and she laughs again.

"Perhaps I am," she says. "But you _do_ need rest, Steve. You're falling asleep even as you speak to me, did you even realize it?"

Steve… hadn't realized it, but now that she's pointed it out he can feel his eyelids drooping. Diana starts to walk, and Steve hates to admit it, but the back-and-forth motion is soothing, and only makes him want to submit to the pull of unconsciousness more.

But—he can't sleep yet. The base was just attacked, what if someone needs him, what if something goes wrong? What if the Germans return—?

"You're alright, Steve. Sleep. I will wake you if you are needed," Diana reassures, reading his mind as usual. Steve lets his body go limp in her arms (arms that he watched crush a _tank_ earlier, and that should scare him but it doesn't).

"Promise?" he asks, and she smiles again.

"I promise," she replies. There's a thousand things that could be going wrong in this moment, and Steve can't help but worry—

But he's in Diana's arms, and she's _promised_ to wake him if needed. He's not going to get any safer than he is with her around, anyway, and he knows she'll keep watch over the rest of her team as well.

He lets his eyes close.

He knows Diana will protect him while he rests.


End file.
